The Other Lasat
by Moomkin
Summary: Saw Gerrera arrives on Yavin IV with his entourage of Partisans - including his Lasat - to taunt the Rebels. For anyone who wished Zeb and Saw's Lasat would've met in season four. Protective Zeb and terrified Kallus.
1. Chapter 1

Alexsandr Kallus thought he was prepared.

He'd been working with Rebel intelligence ever since he'd recovered from his near fatal escape from the Empire. Utilizing his knowledge of Imperial protocol to help the Rebellion develop plans of attack, Kallus had been elbow deep in intel reports.

The reports were of things one couldn't find on the Holonet. Imperial atrocities. Detailed descriptions of things that no sane person would willingly imagine. The horror and carnage of quelling a rebellion came at a cost only the truly calloused could stomach. Some of the other agents would get riled up or depressed over the details, wanting to react out of emotion.

Not Kallus. He remained detached. Without much of an emotional response, he could glean from the report the bigger picture. Not that he lacked compassion, but he knew from years of experience what he had to do to get the job done.

He thought he was prepared.

The first time the name Saw Gerrera popped up was like a blaster bolt slamming into his chest. A pain, full and violent and real, consumed him. Angered him. Set his heart racing.

At nothing more than his name.

The guilt at his reaction lasted longer and bit deeper. __A name.__ But that had come without warning, Kallus reasoned. He knew the reports he'd been reading would contain awful descriptions of carnage, but Gerrera was a surprise. It would be an easy fix. Next time he picked up a report, Kallus would close his eyes, briefly prepare himself for what he might come across.

If the other Rebels could have known his thoughts, they surely would have doubted his mettle. Or worse, been outraged at Kallus's reaction over a name when so many actual horrific things had happened without a similar reaction. And despite his assurances to himself, Kallus was suddenly on edge, as though knowing Gerrera still lived was as bad as what had happened…

Kallus thought he'd resolved that conflict… closed the book on the trauma, moved on. But it came back.

All from merely reading a name.

One day it got to be too much. Kallus asked how the Rebels could possibly work with a man like Gerrera, and he was more than relieved to hear from Mon Mothma's own mouth her disgust towards the man.

It wasn't enough to stop the hyper vigilance he found slowly creeping over him. The way he needed to prepare himself before reading over intelligence reports. The shorter temper he found himself having to apologize for.

To say nothing of the nightmares.

Those attacked when he was at his most defenseless, but thankfully, Zeb was there for those.

"It's nothing…" didn't work on Zeb. And Kallus certainly couldn't hide the sweat drenching the bed sheets, the hair clinging to his damp forehead. The panic in his eyes as he imagined he was there. Back on Onderon.

Yet, no matter how painful these lapses were becoming, it was nothing in comparison to knowing that Zeb's acceptance and assurances didn't do much in the long term to make it go away, either.

So Kallus resigned himself to suffering.

If acceptance didn't heal him. If time didn't heal him. If forgiveness couldn't stop his mind from bringing him back to Onderon… then the least he could do was stay silent about it and keep those he cared about from suffering for him.

Yet his disgust for Saw was slowly getting the better of him. It didn't help that the man was popping up more and more frequently in their intelligence reports. He seemed to have a hand in everything. And the more serious the Rebellion got about taking down the Empire, the more often they realized Saw's intel was better than theirs.

They didn't see it. They didn't know, but Kallus knew – once the Rebellion began to utilize Gerrera as an informant, they would only encourage him to continue his brutal methods.

Even if they hadn't suffered as he had, Kallus didn't want these Rebels to have any doubt what it would lead to. __Especially__ once the __Ghost__ crew were all assembled on Yavin IV.

"How does Saw's ragtag group have better intel than we do?," the clone trooper Rex asked.

Kallus's heart rate had kicked up at General Dodanna's mention of Gerrera's name. And even if ignorance of his past wasn't a crime, Rex's remarks only made Kallus more bitter.

"Because Gerrera has absolutely no qualms about how he acquires it," Kallus explained, trying to pour all of that anguish into his warning.

Kallus figured that would be the end of it. But then Ezra… that ideological, headstrong, oblivious Jedi, had to say the worst thing.

"Well, if he gets results."

Mon Mothma must have sensed something, because she quickly stepped in for damage control. Not that it seemed to have any impact on Ezra's opinions. Just a simple "We do not mistreat our prisoners." No true insight into the monstrous actions Saw was willing to take to get what he wanted. Not what they-

"Let's go."

Kallus snapped out of his brooding, making eye contact with Zeb. "What?"

"I know that look," Zeb explained. The human's lingering annoyance remained, so he clamped a clawed paw on Kallus's shoulder, manhandling Kallus away from the crowd. "Come on. Time for a breather."

Which meant walking out of the base, out into the fresh air, out past the flight line. Kallus was thankful for the concern, for he knew it for what it was – an offer to get away from everyone and vent. But it was slowly becoming clear that venting wasn't helping.

If anything, it was only making things worse. Venting triggered his anger, which meant his brain was flooding his body with adrenaline. At one time, that adrenaline had kept him alive. Now? The slightest annoyance would trigger the adrenaline rush. A new violent cycle starting. From which there was no real end game.

"They can't use Gerrera," Kallus said.

"And they won't," Zeb answered. "Mon won't allow it."

"Ezra-"

"Is still a kid. And he doesn't know."

"The way he talks… about __results.__ It might not matter if he knows how Gerrera operates. He's been hurt by the Empire. He's lost people."

Zeb closed his distance with Kallus, that protective aura he seemed to so effortlessly project enveloping him. Kallus's guard dropped.

"Sounds like you need to do something." A slight growl on his tone. Kallus rolled his eyes. Adventurous romps in the jungle were not quite unheard of in the past. Just… now-

"I __am__ doing something, Zeb, I-"

"Looking at reports isn't the same. You need to come on a mission with us."

"Mon Mothma will never allow me-"

"She will if Hera talks to her first. And I'll talk to Hera."

Kallus looked away. Why he was suddenly so reluctant to accept help, he had no idea. He knew what Zeb was getting at. Looking through intelligence was important, but it gave no resolution. Going out on a mission – with danger and action – would release some of those frustrations. And give his mind some closure. It would be something positive to put all that pent up anger towards.

"You're growing unhappy here-"

Kallus was quick to argue, but Zeb shushed him.

"I don't take it personal. All this safety and relaxation don't sit right with you. A man of action-"

Kallus's head snapped up.

"A ship's approaching," he said, narrowing his eyes.

Kallus had spent enough time over the past few weeks at the base to know how regularly missions came and went. This was no mission. It was a single ship, too small to be an Imperial scout, too large to be a Rebel patrol.

Kallus exchanged glances with Zeb.

No words needed to be said.

They'd walked far enough away from the base that by the time they reached the flight line, the ship had already landed and a crowd had amassed. A crowd large enough that it masked the identities of whoever it was who had arrived.

The ship itself, Kallus noticed, was certainly disguised well. It could have been anyone. Mercenaries. A senator in disguise. Even the torrents lining the underbelly didn't divulge any information. In the current atmosphere of impending open war, even the most innocent travelers were best to be prepared.

The crowds were buzzing, but dissipating.

"They're inside," was the only information Kallus was able to glean.

"Who?"

"Gerrera."

"Kal, __wait!__

Kallus was running before he was aware of his actions. A flat out sprint. He dodged between technicians and pilots, the roar of his heartbeat a steady __wump wump wump__ in his ears. Adrenaline all but deafened him. His sight slowly bleeding over to a red haze of rage.

 _ _Saw was here.__

Inside, eyes adjusting to the dimmed lights underneath the temple, Kallus could see nothing. His stride only lessened a moment while he decided upon a new course. __No delegation would meet in the hangar bay.__

The conference room.

He could hear the din of shouted confrontation… Saw's voice, and Mon's equally passionate retorts.

 _ _The time for debates had passed… Mothma's diplomatic idealism will die…__ Kallus rounded a corner. __Saw will die….__

The thoughts stopped.

Kallus had stepped into a hallway, the one leading into the heart of the base, to the conference room, where the voices continued to echo, but what was waiting at the other end was so unexpected the wind was knocked from Kallus's chest.

It was __him.__

Saw's Lasat.

 _ _The__ Lasat.

The anger was choked off in an instant, the blood draining from Kallus's face. He had been in mid-stride, and the fear that gripped him was paralyzing. He stumbled to an awkward halt. His eyes wide, his heart slamming, cutting as painfully as a knife, stabbing through his ribs.

All that desperate need for action. Dead.

 _ _Please…__

The screams returned, loudly echoing in his ear. As tangible as if the other ISB agents were littered along the hallway right there with him. Begging for mercy… helpless against the monster.

The smells, too, returned. The dust of broken concrete, the tang of fuel… and the morbid ones, too. The smell of blood, freshly spilled. Human flesh. Burning. Impossibly tangible…. A morbid trick his brain played on him… making the horror worse.

The memories flooded back, and Kallus was helpless against the onslaught.

The Lasat looked back. Strangely curious. It's green eyes widening. Ever so slightly. Like a beast, curious about whether this was a threat to be fought, or prey to be conquered.

Kallus could only stare back, pressing himself against the wall.

 _ _It's coming… it's coming…__ The Lasat had begun its approach, the green monstrous eyes looking him up and down. No recognition yet… but the hunger was in its eyes. An evil grin on its face.

It was only then that Kallus noticed the other Partisans – when the Lasat turned to say something to them. Taunting him…

"Look at this one," the Lasat said. Even its voice was just as his memory had preserved it. The mocking… the false tenderness… Kallus slammed his eyes shut.

 _ _Please…__

And in his memories… the knowledge of his helplessness… being forced to watch his friends get murdered… slowly… one by one. He could have done something… anything… and he __didn't….__

"Kallus, why're you-"

Kallus's eyes widened again. He locked eyes with Zeb… Zeb his protector… that defensive aura… once again enveloping him… warm and safe.

 _ _No… not enough….__ Not enough to pull him out of the panic…. His hands… his hands were trembling…. __Zeb….__

There was something in his expression. He could tell by the way Zeb's mouth dropped and settled into a concerned frown. Kallus could only imagine what he must have looked like. His nightmares could never terrify him like this.

"A Lasat!"

Kallus cringed at the words. It was getting closer… the other Lasat… Kallus's breathing was erratic, catching in his throat, as if the air itself was choking him. And he cringed, cowering slightly. __Weak…__ Just like he'd been…

The guilt… the screams… it all came back. __You did nothing to save them.__

 _ _Recognize him Zeb…__ Kallus pleaded, mentally, locking his eyes on Zeb… and not on the monster that approached…. still struggling to regain his breath. __Recognize him….__


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Text**

Zeb didn't recognize the other Lasat.

Even with all the clues. Even knowing that Saw Gerrara was here, at this base. That Saw had __the__ Lasat… the one who started it all… and how could Zeb have forgotten about that? It was the first story of himself Kallus had ever told Zeb. Back when they were still enemies… when Kallus had so much hate and loathing and anger… but was also so desperate to be understood. A story he'd elaborated more on when they were closer…. A story that had come to define him. Both his downfall and his redemption.

How could Zeb not recognize it? Saw was here, right now, at this base. But no… the connection was lost. All Zeb saw it as was another of his kind. Zeb's eyes wide in surprise, the frown of concern at seeing Kallus's panic had turned into a slight grin, as though genuinely pleased to see another Lasat.

 _ _While the reason there are so few Lasat is standing right here… whose side would Zeb take now?__

Kallus slammed his eyelids firmly shut. Fears of suddenly been turned upon-

 _ _Snap out of it…. You know better… snap out of it…__

But Zeb did nothing to keep the other Lasat from approaching. And it stung. Like betrayal… like being alone again. __Please… recognize him.__ Even Kallus's obvious distress was forgotten in the shock of finding another Lasat. But how could Zeb not make the connection? Surely Zeb didn't think Kallus's heavy breathing was due to the short run across the base?

Still it approached… The click of its clawed feet sharp in Kallus's mind, like spikes into his consciousness. All those old fears, the repulsions… things he'd thought he'd worked out. They were the same feet… the __same feet__ __ _that had walked across a scorched battlefield… there had been blood on those feet..._

 _The panicked breaths were coming erratically now. Sharp. Painful._ __

 _It was as though space and time had bent… warped… it was full circle now. Those same feet… after all the years of chasing down this mercenary… all the death that search had left in its wake…_ __

 _The Lasat stopped… barely a few feet away from him. Kallus cringed again. He couldn't even look in Zeb's direction anymore – the other Lasat was in his line of sight, too. Kallus willed his body to stay rigid. Back pressed up against the wall. Afraid of doing anything to draw attention to himself anymore… afraid the Lasast might recognize him... After all these years. It had let him go… let him live. To spread the word. To send the message._

 _ _The wide eyes… the terror… it would all be the same. The same face. He would be recognized.__

Kallus felt so cold. So alone. His protector abandoning h- __Snap out of it, Alex, snap out of it.__

"Well isn't this a surprise!" the other Lasat said, in the same jovial voice it had used when discovering defenseless ISB agents at its mercy. A tone of voice that caused Kallus to whimper slightly at his next intake of breath. "Another survivor. And here I thought I was the only one left. You must not have been on Lasan. "

 _ _Zeb, please… recognize him.__

"No, I was," Zeb answered Saw's Lasat. No recognition. Nothing but friendliness. Genuine friendliness. He didn't know. "Part of the Honor Guard-"

Saw's Lasat laughed sardonically. "Oh, yes, the Honor Guard. Tell me, much honor was there in dying? Standing by, protecting the Royal Family while the Empire destroyed your people, hoping for some kind of peace deal, only to get murdered yourselves, oh, yes, quite the honorable ones you were."

Kallus risked a look.

 _The expression on Zeb's face… morphing. The smile slowly dropping. Hackles raising. And…._

"And what were you doing?" Zeb growled back. __Not recognition, not defending, just bickering. Stupid, pointless exchanging insults.__ "If you think the Honor Guard was such a mistake, I'd love to hear how you were trying to save Lasan."

 _Saw's Lasat tilted his head back, the grin widening. "A better kind of diplomacy. The kind where the Empire can't promise one thing and do another."_ __

 _"_ _Yeah, and how'd you manage that?"_ __

 _The grin widened, teeth gleaming hungrily, his face crinkling slightly in a condescending smile. "You poor young thing. So naive."_ __

 _Zeb snarled, "Figures. No real answ-"_ __

 _"_ _You kill them. All of them. The warriors… the by standers… the innocent. The ones running away. You rip apart their frail little human bodies. The negotiations always go your way when the other side's dead."_ __

Kallus heard each of those words… felt each one reach into his essence… each syllable pounding into his heart. _ _Those words…__ The way they were said. That sarcastic tone… the grin. And the screams of the other agents… the pleas of his friends… they echoed back at each word. __His friends…__ they had died fighting… and for all the carnage, all it had brought upon the galaxy was more pain.

 _A glance up... Zeb's eyes finding Kallus's…. and Zeb recognized the terror._ __

He _ _knew__.

 _A growl – a sound that would have terrified Kallus. Paralyzed him with fear. Coming from Zeb's throat… it was soothing. Calming. The relief a blanket falling heavily on his shoulders. A tug eturning him from the brink of the abyss._ __

 _And Saw's Lasat… A growl in return. It didn't even ask. The confrontation was immediately sensed and accepted. A grin on its face. The enjoyment of battle._ __

 _"_ _Oooh," Saw's Lasat taunted. "Saw said you Rebels would never be willing to do what needs to be done to win this war. So what's this? Does the truth bother you so much? It's got to come down to a brawl?"_ __

 _Zeb let his actions answer. He took a step forward, his toes digging into the ground, teeth bared. Saw's Lasat copied him, though his bared teeth were more of a sneer than a snarl. Neither Lasat had a weapon, but Kallus knew it wouldn't matter. They would fight. There was nothing here that would stop either of them._

 _And in a twisted way, Kallus was egging Zeb on. Mentally imagining Zeb ripping that monster limb to limb. It was powerful. Forceful. The emotion edged its way into Kallus's mind, replacing his fear with a twisted kind of hope._ __

 _ _Hope for what?__

 _Vengence. The righting of wrongs. … wrongs that could never be righted. What had happened would never be undone. What it had done to Kallus… the Lasat…_

 _ _No… this isn't right. This isn't hope. It's...Revenge.__

 _Even if finishing that monster who'd done this to him was everything he thought he'd ever wanted. It wouldn't change the past. All it could do now was put Zeb in danger. Kallus had seen Saw's Lasat fight. It had no honor. It had just openly mocked it._ __

 _And if Zeb was hurt at this monster's hands… if… something worse happened..._ __

 _Kallus couldn't let it happen._ __

 _"_ _Zeb - don't!" Kallus said, his voice revealing far more of his anxiety than he'd wished. "It's not worth-"_ __

 _And… cringed. Speaking out brought attention to himself._ __

 _Attention he couldn't handle. It was worse than he had ever imagined. No nightmare could capture the horror of the real thing. To have the Lasat turning towards him, to be suddenly it's target once more._ __

The other Lasat laughed, straightening up. "Oh, yes, the voice of the Rebellion. 'Nothing is worth fighting over.' Well, _ _Zeb__ \- best run along now."

 _ _It doesn't recognize me.__

The thought __hurt.__

 _It was petty to admit it. That Kallus wanted to matter to the Lasat. All the pain and trauma it had caused him… and it didn't even remember. There were other Onderons. Other massacres._

 _Saw's Lasat moved._ __

 _It was shocked by the immediate reaction its movement created. In all honesty, the worse it was probably intending was to grab Kallus and shove him across the hall to Zeb. But Kallus recoiled at the clawed hand that reached out for him._ __

 _Zeb stepped in. Couldn't stomach the idea of the Lasat's attention being drawn to Kallus._ __

 _"_ _ZEB!"_ __

 _It was too late._ __

 _If the other Lasat looked down on the Rebellion for its unwillingness to meet its level of ruthlessness, it had never stood between Zeb and the man he loved._ __

 _Claws racked across the Lasat's arm, ripping it out of the air, away from Kallus. There was no friendliness anymore. Nothing but raw protectiveness._ __

 _The fight was on._

 _Saw's Lasat wheeled around, claws out, swinging his entire body around to deliver his first blow. Zeb was caught unprepared for it, the brunt of the strike landing on his jaw. Flesh ripped, blood oozed from the wounds. Zeb didn't act as though the pain registered._ __

 _Kallus had never seen Zeb in this kind of state. The two Lasat exchanged blows - too fast for Kallus to keep track of. The other Lasat had probably never fought something so enraged in its life. That cockiness was gone. The swagger… there was nothing but anger now._ __

 _And that horrified Kallus even more._ __

 _Saw's Lasat lunged at Zeb, slamming his shoulder into his chest, trying to pin him against a wall. Zeb snarled, bringing his feet up to protect his belly. And not a moment too soon. Saw's Lasat had brought its hands close, claws digging, hoping to rip away at Zeb's vulnerable torso._ __

 _But Zeb was kicking away with his feet, while at the same time folding over other Lasat's shoulder, clawing racking over and over its back. It was bloody. Surely a fight like this couldn't be sustained for long._ __

 _Saw's Lasat howled in pain, took a few steps back away from the wall and lunged forward again. When Zeb didn't slow down his assault, it did it again… and again._ __

 _And then gave up the tactic, and just slammed itself onto the ground, driving its shoulder down as it fell. Zeb was pinned down now. His access to the other Lasat's back gone. And Saw's Lasat jumped on the opportunity._ __

 _It had one clawed hand wrapping around Zeb's neck, and with the other…_ __

 _Kallus couldn't watch._ __

 _But -_

 _Kallus found he could still move._


	3. Chapter 3

__He could move.__

Even with his mind playing tricks on him. Even with his heart sending paralyzing throbs of pain echoing in his chest. Even with memories and reality mixing together.

Kallus hadn't returned to the past.

He hadn't made the same mistakes.

He could move.

Without warning, a dangerous thought entered his head. He had to do something now that he found he __could__ do something – that much was clear – but what he __could__ do… Zeb would never forgive him.

But…

He could jump into the fray…

Saw's Lasat was as ruthless as Kallus remembered. He would hardly stand a chance… and perhaps that was exactly what was needed.

He could jump into the battle. He could draw the Lasat's attention upon himself… he could get __hurt__.

And the Rebellion would see.

They'd see who Saw's Partisans really were. They'd see them for the monsters they were. Maybe the others didn't mind so much that the Partisans had brutally murdered his friends – some still held onto the idea that Imperials were just Imperials.

Much the same as they villainized the Empire for lumping all "rebels" as mere "rebels." Indistinguishable. Without families or lives or hopes or dreams of their own.

But Kallus was a Rebel now. And if he got injured… if he got __killed__ \- defending a fellow Rebel on a Rebel base from a member of Saw's militant group….

Actions were always louder than words. And so far, Kallus's warnings about using Saw had gone mostly unheeded.

Kallus didn't need to give himself any kind of mental pep talk. He only hoped that if he __did__ survive what he was planning to do, that Zeb would never catch on to what he had intended.

The other Lasat had one clawed hand wrapped around Zeb's throat, its free arm raised, prepared for another racking swipe. Kallus targeted that for his attack.

Kallus dove forward, his entrance into the fight sloppy. He succeeded in grasping onto the other Lasat's arm, holding onto the arm with everything he had, but he had come at this with too much momentum. Kallus's body twisted around.

Maybe it looked very heroic.

Because now he was laying on top of Zeb, still grasping the other Lasat's arm, but now he was facing the monster. Throwing himself protectively in front of Zeb.

Zeb probably tried to choke something out. Some kind of admonishment. The other Lasat still had one hand around his throat.

He would have to let go. Kallus was making it clear that he wasn't planning to release his hold on the Lasat's arm. He clenched his teeth, his eyebrows knitted together with determination. But inside, he was hardly angry at all. Mentally, he was even coaxing him…

Coaxing others to come see… see what was happening just around the corner from Saw and Mon's verbal battle.

Saw's Lasat released his other hand around Zeb's throat. So at least Kallus's intervention had done __that.__

 _ _Next will come the attack,__ and Kallus braced himself for it.

But the other Lasat still hadn't recognized him. For all he knew, Kallus was just some dumb human. Some dumb idealistic Rebel, leaping to a fellow's rescue. Saw's Lasat real beef was with Zeb… with the Captain of the Honor Guard. With the royalty and whom he saw as those responsible for Lasan's downfall.

For the briefest of moments, Kallus debated simply telling the Lasat who he was. Because all he tried to do was shove Kallus to the side – but then…

Zeb!

Foolish, loving, protective Zeb!

Seeing Kallus once again the center of the other Lasat's attention – without understanding Kallus's plan – just drove him into the highest gear. It was the other Lasat's mistake to let him go. Kallus's brain couldn't even process what had happened. Just one minute he'd been laying there, mentally prepared for the other Lasat's full attention and…

The next minute he was laying on the ground, dazed, and the two were at it again. Somehow Zeb had landed on top of the other, his feet on the other's chest. But the other reached up with his prehensile feet, grabbing onto Zeb's back, and pulling him just off balance enough to get to his feet… and as Kallus got shakily to his feet, another standoff began, Zeb maneuvering himself so he could block Kallus from the other Lasat's line of sight.

And stand offs… stand offs were not going to get the message across…

"You Rebels are all the same," Saw's Lasat growled, "So willing to throw yourselves into a fight. Ready to die for a cause. But if someone else has to die for the Empire to fall – well, then you get all bent out of shape. If only could you see the hypocrisy."

Zeb wasn't even interested in having a philosophical debate with his opponent. Seeing that they were in a standoff, Zeb just looked down at his injuries.

"You made me bleed!" Zeb said. "If you don't think I'm ready to end you, you're going to die surprised."

Saw's Lasat laughed. "You fight as sloppily as a mother defending her kits. And I've killed plenty of those."

"Don't call him a kit!" Zeb roared.

Saw's Lasat had a momentary look of confusion spread across his face, but it lasted only a moment. Zeb lunged forward the next, perhaps hoping to prove the other wrong. Kallus, for his own part, felt a swirl of emotions ranging from a newfound surge of worry as Zeb put himself in harm's way again and mortifying embarrassment at being called out like that.

He would have to make a move. He would have to get involved. Kallus's eyes darted to the end of the hall – no one had arrived yet, but they would. All this yelling would have to draw attention. The other Partisans were still there. But any moment now… one of them surely would have gotten Saw. Another Rebel could have seen the brawl and gone to get Mon.

Someone had to see.

And Kallus was determined that when they did, they would get a good show. They would see how these Partisans operated. That they couldn't even be trusted to play nice among allies. That they would always resort of violence. To death.

And Kallus couldn't let Zeb be the one to kill.

Even if a part of him wanted Zeb to do it. Even if the voices of the dead agents had been silenced, the echoes of wanting their death avenged still called to him.

But Kallus couldn't let that happen.

Once again, he ran forward. This time the stars aligned. The moment Kallus positioned himself in front of Zeb, the other Lasat's strike fell, and Kallus took the full brunt of it.

"What is going on!"

Kallus could dimly make out Mon Mothma's voice as he lay crumpled on the ground. He could make out the murmurs of heated conversation, but nothing more. His vison was fuzzy… the peripherals darkening…  
 _ _You did it.__

It was an odd congratulations. Kallus coughed, weakly, and took in his next breath with difficulty.

 _ _What happened?__

Zeb was there. Those giant eyes reflecting nothing but concern… but even that was growing fuzzy.

A hand pressed on his chest, and Kallus folded in on himself, hissing in pain.

That attack… what happened? He'd taken it full force in the chest. His shirt was wet… he was bleeding. But how badly? Were his ribs broken? Is that why it was difficult to breath?

"Zeb…" Kallus whispered, as he tried to blink away the encroaching darkness.

Maybe he had made the wrong choice.

Because the Rebellion and the Partisans all seemed so insignificant as he looked up into the worry of Zeb's eyes.

They were all that remained important as he felt himself slipping over the edge.

And it was all that remained important as all faded to dark.

-SWR-

"That was dumb."

"I said 'sorry,'" Kallus sighed. It was about the fifteenth time he'd apologized since he woke up in a bacta tank only a few minutes previously. And it wasn't those concerned eyes Kallus woke up to, but a full on Lasat scowl.

"You knew what you were doing!" Zeb said, not accepting apologies. "You weren't trying to fight! I've seen you fight! You could've stood your own. You __wanted__ to get hurt."

 _ _Hurt.__ Not __killed.__ At least Zeb didn't know the full truth.

"I wasn't thinking-"

"Oh, you don't have to tell me."

Now it was Kallus's turn to scowl.

"I was trying to defend you."

"You about gave me a heart attack!"

"I couldn't stand by…" Kallus said, his voice choked off and the anger burning out as he realized what he was about to say. He turned away as his cheeks flushed. "I couldn't. Not with __him.__ "

Zeb softened, too. Kallus could feel the tension in the room dissipating in an instant. The bed sunk as Zeb took a seat, but Kallus kept his face turned away.

Why he suddenly felt vulnerable… why he suddenly felt embarrassed?

He felt a clawed thumb rest on his chin, and a hand turning his face. Kallus kept his eyes down. He could barely make sense of the way he felt – shame? The last thing he wanted was for Zeb to see that turmoil. He leaned his head forward, resting it on Zeb's chest. He felt those massive arms wrapping around him, enveloping him in protection.

It was more than words could say. Acceptance. Forgiveness. Understanding.

A hand ran through his hair.

"I forgot to mention that I'm proud of you," Zeb said.

Kallus coughed up a weak laugh, muffled by Zeb's hug.

"I know it took a lot, to do what you did."

"Is he gone?" Kallus asked.

There was a long pause.

"What's left of him."

"Zeb…."

He should have known. Zeb would have lost all control seeing him like that. He should have known… and his plan? Ruined. There was no way anyone would see the attack as one sided… no one would be able to hone in on the Partisans… how they acted…

"I've never seen Mon Mothma so angry," Zeb explained. "I'm surprised the temples didn't fall down on top of us the way she yelled. Took the wind right out of his sails. And Saw… Saw told him to back down… I wish you could have seen them walk back to their ship. What's left of his pride is scattered all over this base."

"But… he's still out there."

Zeb was silent again.

Perhaps he knew an inkling of what that fear felt like. Maybe it would have been better… if Zeb had just ripped out his throat… made __him__ beg for mercy…

"Yeah. But I'm still here."

And more than revenge, more than fear, Kallus was surprised to feel that that was enough.

And instead of feeling shame, or embarassed, Kallus could feel a small smile forming on his lips.

"Through it all."

Perhaps Zeb didn't know what Kallus meant. It didn't really matter. His heart was full. He'd faced down every demon the universe had stuffed into his head, and here he was, back at the beginning again.

"And through everything yet to come."

"Until the end."


End file.
